


Two-Edged Instrument

by pixie_rings



Series: Per Ardua Ad Astra [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien Language, F/M, shiro just wants to know what the fuck is going on, sometimes even adults aren't good at being adults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:37:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7609477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixie_rings/pseuds/pixie_rings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiro just wants to know what she keeps calling him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two-Edged Instrument

**Author's Note:**

> I said I'd tell you what it meant, didn't I? Lol.

Shiro is on a mission, of sorts. It's not an officially sanctioned mission, more a personal one. It's been weeks, now, and one word has been plaguing his existence, because he just doesn't know what it means.

He can speak three languages fluently (English, Japanese and French), get by in two (Spanish and Arabic) and mind his P's and Q's in probably about a dozen more. He was a pilot, being at least bilingual is a requisite, but these are Earth languages, and of no use in space. There are probably infinite billions of languages in space, based on patterns he could never begin to comprehend and created by vocal cords that can form sounds he could never hope to imitate. And his current predicament involves a language that is only two people away from being extinct.

He just really wants to know what “ _arlnath_ ” means.

He knows perfectly well it's something Allura doesn't want him to know the meaning of, otherwise she would have provided a translation when he asked for it. She only uses it when it's the two of them alone, and the way she says it... the way she murmurs it, reverently, makes him think it's some term of endearment.

Perhaps it's because of a hint of shame, but the first person he actually asks is Pidge.

Pidge is in their usual spot, in the lower levels of the castleship, fiddling with something that involves intense coding sessions, wires and something that goes beep. Shiro doesn't want to know, to be honest. It looks like Frankenstein's laboratory, and Pidge is the mad scientist.

“Hi, Pidge,” he says, leaning against the desk. Pidge turns and looks up at him, pushing their glasses up the bridge of their nose and giving him a quizzical look.

“Hey, Shiro. What's up?”

Shiro rubs the back of his neck. On the one hand, he feels sort of... dishonest, going behind Allura's back like this. It's not exactly a good thing to do if you want a healthy relationship, communication is vital and he's not communicating with the person he should be communicating with. But, well, it's not as if their relationship is out in the open at all: Allura sneaks around like it's something to be ashamed of, and Shiro can't understand what she's afraid might happen.

“Do you have an, um, Altean dictionary?”

Pidge leans back in their chair, tapping their chin with one finger. “Sort of? Do you need a translation?”

Shiro nods. Pidge grins, cracks their knuckles and hovers, poised, over the keyboard.

“So, what are we looking for?”

Shiro clears his throat, feeling mortally embarrassed all of a sudden. It's ridiculous – he's a grown man – but he can't help it.

“Um, _arlnath_ ,” he says, and it feels strange on his tongue, like some forbidden word. It's a word that shouldn't be spoken out side intimate moments between two lovers.

Pidge types away, presses their keyboard's equivalent to Enter with an unnecessary flourish and sits back to wait. They both don't have to wait long.

“Hm... there's nothing in here for it,” Pidge says, frowning. “Just gives me an error.” They turn to Shiro with an apologetic shrug. “I'm sorry.”

Shiro shakes his head and pats them on the shoulder. “That's ok. I'll try something else.”

Pidge waves him goodbye, then turns back to the computer.

* * *

This leaves one option, and for some reason his instinct tells him asking Coran is a terrible, _terrible_ idea, but... he's come this far, and he just wants to _know_ , at this point. He feels vaguely self-destructive as he goes in search of Coran throughout the castle, and he has a feeling this certainly won't end well.

He finds Coran in the kitchen, cleaning down the surfaces, humming to himself. Shiro wonders how to even begin to broach this subject, it's just so... awkward. He clears his throat from the doorway, and Coran raises his head with a cheerful smile.

“Hullo there, Shiro! What can I do to help you?” He keeps on cleaning, but Shiro knows he has his full attention.

“I was, um, wondering if you could help me translate something from Altean?” Shiro asks, stepping inside the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck again.

“Of course! Fire away!”

“Er, it's... _Arlnath_?”

Shiro has never seen anyone freeze so completely and suddenly before. It's... unnerving. Coran straightens, fixes Shiro with a piercing stare, like daggers. It feels like the room temperature has dropped by about ten degrees, and Shiro fights the urge to take a step back.

“Where did you hear that?” Coran asks, his voice completely emotionless. It feels like a trick question. Something screams at Shiro to lie, lie through his teeth if he has to.

“I, uh, overheard...”

“You didn't overhear anything of the sort,” Coran says coldly. He sidesteps the counter and heads to the door, all cleaning abandoned. He stops in the doorway, hand on the doorframe, as if to steady himself. Shiro can see his fingers shaking. “If you'll excuse me, I need to speak with the Princess.”

And he is gone, leaving Shiro wondering what could have happened. He's still no closer to discovering what “ _arlnath_ ” means, but he'd bet good money it's not something he's supposed to know. He runs a hand over his head and let's it fall back, groaning. He's in Coran's bad books now, he knows that much, and there probably isn't a solution to that.

He should probably go find the person he should have spoken to in the first place.

* * *

He finds Allura on the topmost observation deck. She's sitting at a table, playing what looks like the chess from Star Trek, but even more complicated, since there are about seven small boards floating in a circle around her. The mice are sitting on the table, observing.

“I see you've finally appeared,” she says, moving three different pieces on two different boards. She doesn't sound angry, more disappointed, which gives Shiro some horrifying passive-aggressive flashbacks to his grandmother.

“I thought I should come and find you,” he says. She raises her eyes from the chessboards and throws him a withering look.

“What a pity you didn't think to do that in the first place,” she snaps. He doesn't flinch. He takes a deep breath and folds his arms, not even attempting to keep his body language open.

“I'm not the one who decided I didn't need to know something that's apparently a key ingredient of this relationship,” he retorts. Allura looks away at that, her face stormy.

“I could have done without Coran appearing and berating me for it,” she mutters.

“Berating you?” Shiro echoes. He's... confused. He knows it's something to do with that word, and probably something to do with Altean culture, but apart from that, he's in the dark. Mainly because the woman he's been mentally calling 'girlfriend' for however long decided to keep things from him.

Allura rises and walks over to the balustrade of the observation deck. The radiation shields are up, so the starfield beyond is muted. Below, there's the recreation lounge, empty, for now. Allura leans on the balustrade, gazing off into space. Literally.

“I take it you asked him what...” She pauses, takes a deep breath. “ _Arlnath_ means.”

Shiro goes to stand beside her. “You wouldn't tell me.” He sighs. “I shouldn't have, and I'm sorry. I should have asked you again.”

Allura looks guilty at that. “I still wouldn't have answered. It's probably best you... tried another tactic.” She turns to look at him, her gaze sorrowful in a way that shocks him. “ _Arlnath_ is... it's hard to explain. I suppose the translation could be, literally... 'one I would die for'.” She catches Shiro's alarmed expression and shakes her head quickly. “It doesn't actually mean that, it's just... my father would call my mother _arlnath_. It's the person you care for most deeply. I suppose the closest thing Earth tongues would have would be... _beloved_.”

She blushes, unable to look at him.

“So...” He drums his fingers against the metal, struggles to find a reply. “You've... been telling me you _love_ me?”

He's never said the words before now, mainly because they feel like tempting fate, but also like they give definition to... what they have. On Earth, love is a strong, and people don't use it enough, probably because they're afraid. He is, he supposes somewhat bitterly, is no different to them.

He'd realised it a while ago, somewhere between seeing her stand tall and proud in the face of every adversity, and seeing her raw and hurting in his arms when the memories turned into pain. But saying the words would give form to the feelings, let them out in the open where the fickle universe can see them and twist them, use them against them. Shiro doesn't believe in fate, or karma, but he also doesn't believe in luck all that much. Not anymore. Life has a way of tearing what you love away from you without a second thought.

“I wasn't aware I needed to say it,” she says. He turns to her, confused. “I thought my actions were enough. Do humans need words to be reassured?”

He sighs softly. “Sometimes they do.”

“Then I'll do that.” She presses her hand to his face, gazes into his eyes, and like every time she does that he feels a little breathless, a little windswept, a little blown away. “I'll reassure you. Shiro, my Paladin, _arlnath_ , I love you.”

Everything hurts when she says that, but the pain is exquisite. His heart is firmly in her hands right now, and he trusts her with it completely. He touches his forehead to hers, smiles, letting the warmth of those words wash over him. And while he is afraid, deathly afraid, of the future, he'll allow himself to indulge in those words... for a moment, at least. He can have this, for a moment.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, an invisible weight falling from his shoulders as he says that. Some dark part of him says, with a twisted, mirthless smile, that now he can die with no regrets. He shoves those thoughts aside, desperate to just feel instead of thinking. He grounds himself with Allura's touch, the press of her lips to his, her body against him.

When she pulls back, she's smiling softly, gazing at him like he's worthy of her, and... He sighs.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Whatever for?” she asks. He can't answer. The answer is tangled up inside him, knotted with night terrors and the crippling fear of failure. He shakes his head.

“Nothing. For just... being here.”

She chuckles, lays her head on his chest with a long sigh. “Likewise,” she says.

* * *

“Hey, Shiro, did you ever find out what that word meant?” Pidge asks one day.

Shiro smiles, more to himself than to anyone else. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”


End file.
